A Dancers Point Of View

As I stand backstage I find that I am not nervous I find that I am as calm as I have ever been. I look in the mirrors. I have my own station for once. Normally it is just a race to get to the mirror first and be done before they call you on. And if you are not ready you miss it or go on looking like a clown and there is nothing that you can do about it. And no one is going to sit beside you and hold your hand. That is how you get to the big time. The advanced dancers. This is a place where you know you have made it big. When everyone knows your name and whispers about you with smiles. And comments on how you walk and everything about you is positively perfect. That is where I am now. That is how you get your own mirror. With lights all around the edges. I think that this one was left over from an old movie production. (hey I said I made it big, not to the top) And I chuckle as I look over and see all the chorus girls fighting over the mirror. And I laugh wanting to help and break up all the fights. But that is where I was once. And they will make it. They know that they have it, if they make it to the front. or even just look good without even seeing the mirror. Well Marissa is calling me to tell me that I am on in five and need to get back stage pronto. My other dancers scurry around me trying to remember the steps that I changed since Susie broke her ankle the week before. I stand backstage watching the girl who is before me. She is just someone like me. Trying to make a living on the top of her toes and scraping up the dimes as they come in. Normally I would be oh so very nervous right now as I look at the audience clapping and giving her a standing ovation. I think that I even hear a few whistles. Normally I would feel really intimidated by coming on after. When everyone in the audience has already come to the conclusion that nothing can be better than that. But they haven’t seen me dance. And the few of them out there that have nudge the person sitting next to them tell them to watch the next girl. And if they thought that was good you should see her. The lights dim down and the curtains close but they won't even have the time to collect a shard of dust before they will rapidly open for my number. I walk onstage and correct a few of my other dancers places and tell them that they will do great. And they will. Nothing really special. I am the one that is supposed to be special. After all, I made this dance. They are just dancing it. Putting my lyrics into motion. Little do they know this. I can assure you hat every one of those little stick figures thinks that all eyes are on them. But they are really on me. They are after all just the chorus. And I am the main part. The only time all eyes are on you is when you make the dance. It shows, you know it better than anyone else. And can put the right emotion in at every moment. The curtains pull away and I see someone I know in the front. An old friend. I haven't heard from him in years and here he is. He saw me dance once but that was back in middle school and the dances were made by someone else. And yet I was still the star of the show with everyone’s eyes really on me. He smiles at me and gives a subtle wink. I wink back. Not knowing that he was going to be here. Now the music starts and there is no turning back. I am in this now al the way. I hear that first note. 1,2,3,4,5,6,7,8 here I gooooo.. It all seems as though it was over in an instant. Then I start to feel heavy. This is when I start getting a little nervous. What if I forget what happens next. I see him in the front again and all is fine. But I still feel heavy. I accidentally bump into another dancer. And then everything goes dark. That is all I can remember. The next thing I knew I was in the hospital and the first thing I saw were my point slippers dangling from the chair as if someone had just thrown them aside. As if they weren't important. To me they are the most important things in the world. Any dancer would tell you so. The right shoe should look like an extension of your leg, not just any shoe. And now they were just tossed aside as if they were just any shoes. Then I look over and there he is. I ask how I did. He replied that I knocked um dead. When really I later found out that that was my last performance. Instead of knocking them dead. I was.